Duty and Desire
by Ticklesivory
Summary: Dormé is impatient, Obi-Wan is hesitant, and Padme is long-suffering. But things are about to change, when Dormé makes another risky move to ensure the future happiness of her best friend. Sequel to "Nightingale." Obidala.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Duty and Desire

 **Author:** Ticklesivory

 **Summary:** Dormé is impatient, Obi-Wan is hesitant, and Padmé is long-suffering. But things are about to change, when Dormé makes another risky move to ensure the future happiness of her best friend.

 **Rating** : T+

 **Genre** : Action, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Comedy, Drama, etc.

 **Warnings** : Violence, adult situations

 **Disclaimer** : Yadda yadda, blah, blah, blah

 **Author Notes** : There was zero percent possibility Nightingale was going to have a sequel when I started writing it. The bunny is rabid though, and towards the end of it, I decided some issues needed to be resolved. We plod on…

* * *

 **Chapter One/Prologue**

Jedi were notoriously resilient, humble, and patient. The Senator was all these things too. She had to be in her line of work. Having to deliberate with whiney, petulant delegates all day would test anyone's level of tolerance. However, Dormé knew that personally, she didn't possess any of these traits. She knew what she wanted and when the opportunity arose, she didn't hesitate taking it. She was confident, educated, and trained in a variety of combat skills. It was those things which earned her the position she held today; bodyguard and personal assistant to the representative of the Bothan System, Padmé Amidala. It was her duty to protect the Senator from harm, to assist her in her professional duties and personal requirements. In other words; make her life more convenient and as pleasant as possible.

Nothing would be more pleasant than ensuring the Senator's happiness, and Dormé knew nothing would make the Senator more happy than a vow of commitment with the man she loved; Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

It was Dormé's confidence and cunning that had helped the two find that love, but there was one more important step to be taken: a commitment ceremony. Only a contract would seal the deal. It was the way politics worked, and the Senator was a career politician, so the requirement made sense. The Jedi needed to propose and a wedding needed to take place. Simple solution, except for one thing. How was that ever going to happen if the Jedi was always leaving the planet?

During the past year, Master Kenobi and Anakin had gone on seven count 'em: SEVEN missions! Each one lasting longer than the last! At this rate, the Senator would be gray-haired before she even got a ring on her finger!

Something had to be done, and Dormé was the one to do it. All she had to do now was to wait for the perfect opportunity. She just hoped she recognized it when it came.

* * *

A/N: Just a warm-up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Do you ever get the feeling that today is going to be one of _those days_? Like, nothing could go wrong? You wake up refreshed, the sky is brighter, and even your clothes fit better! It was that kind of day for Dormé.

What made it so special was that she had a date. The famous Jedi team of Kenobi and Skywalker were on furlough, which meant they had time to come over for dinner. During their earlier conversation via holocom, Anakin had informed her that he had the suspicion something significant was going to happen this evening, although he wouldn't tell her exactly what that something was.

Dormé had a feeling it was something significant regarding the Senator and Master Kenobi, but she dared not hope. Anakin knew her feelings about it; he couldn't keep from it. The impending marriage of those two was all that was on her mind these days!

"You're in an awfully good mood today," the Senator pointed out as they hung up her dry cleaning.

"I'm just excited we get to see the boys tonight. It's been a while."

"Yes, it has." Padmé's voice took on a melancholy, distant tone Dormé recognized. The Senator missed Master Kenobi terribly, though it took a bottle of Mandalorian Brandy for her to admit it.

"I wish they would've come over sooner," Dormé pointed out as she struggled with one particularly heavy gown.

"They've been busy!" the Senator defended him. "Obi-Wan said the Old-Timer's briefing was extremely drawn out this time. It lasted until the wee hours of the morning. He and Anakin went to bed just a short while ago."

"They could've slept here," Dormé muttered under her breath as she hung the last garment and closed the wardrobe.

"What was that?" Padmé asked, while she retrieved the discarded garment bags from the floor.

"The door chime!" Dormé answered excitedly, checking the chrono by the Senator's bed. "They're early!"

The young woman could barely restrain herself from running through the common room to answer open the door, but lost all decorum when she checked the hallway security holo.

"Anakin!" she squealed, throwing herself into his arms the second the door slid open. Her exuberant embrace was returned before her lips captured in a smoldering kiss. "Stars, I've missed you!" she told him as soon as she was able.

"I've missed you, too," he replied as his hands cradled her face, though his expression did not reflect her own happiness. In fact, Anakin appeared quite concerned about something.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry," the young man rumbled, his forehead lighting landing on hers. "I can't stay. I only have a few minutes and then I have to return to the Temple."

"Don't tell me," Dormé grumbled, grabbing hold of both his hands as she looked up into those gorgeous blue orbs of his. "Not another mission!"

"It's part of the package I'm afraid."

"I know, I know." She couldn't hide her disappointment, although the majority of it wasn't for her. "I understand, but I don't know why Master Kenobi couldn't have come to at least say goodbye to the Senator."

"My Master's commandeering a vessel. I'm supposed to be packing. Most of our stuff had just been sent to Supply. I pulled some strings though and had another Padawan forward it to.."

"Anakin," Dormé interrupted. "Did you come here just to tell me all this?"

"No," the young man pointed out, a sparkle now lighting his gaze. "I have some good news and I wanted to tell you in person. I've seen a ring."

"You what?"

"While Master Kenobi was speaking with Tower Command, I was packing his things and dropped his utility belt. Out of one of the pockets fell a ring. It's gold, with a jewel in the center…."

"This is terrible!" Dormé announced unexpectedly, confusion replacing Anakin's joy. Isn't this what she wanted?

"He was going to propose? When? This evening?" she asked, though not really expecting an answer. He could tell by the exasperated tone of her voice.

"I don't know…"

"And let me guess, you'll both be gone for what? Two months this time? Three?"

"I'm..."

"And I suppose this mission is to someplace close by," she said with heavy sarcasm. "With an established relay and satellite system, so we can communicate with you while you're there. Right?"

"Not exactly," Anakin responded once he had the chance. "We're headed to a small planet just inside the Rim. Nothing dangerous, I don't think. We're supposed to settle a resource disagreement."

"Of course you are."

Anakin knew the sarcasm wasn't being directed at him. She was just disappointed. That was all. He hoped.

"Well," she clucked her tongue while deep in thought. "We'll just have to do something about that, won't we?

The statement worried the young man immensely, but he didn't have time to figure out the details. He reached out once more and framed her lovely face in his hands.

"Promise me you won't do anything to endanger yourself or the Senator."

Her dark eyes flitted back and forth. She was hesitating!

"Promise me!" he repeated more firmly.

"I promise," she finally surrendered, her lips curving into a smile, which Anakin covered with a kiss.

"I'll contact you as soon as I can." The young man checked a chrono he pulled from his belt. "Sith! I've got to get to 17A in 20 minutes! I've got to hurry! Behave yourself," he warned playfully.

"Be careful!" Dormé hollered after him as she watched him go.

Twenty minutes? She could pack for a year in half that time, but packing wasn't the only thing she had to do. If she and the Senator were going to make it to that ship, she'd better get busy!

* * *

Master Fisto eyed the older Jedi warily as they entered the lift. He didn't agree with this course of action, thought it extreme and invasive. He'd kept his opinions to himself, however, and was only accompanying Master Windu by request. 'Keep an eye on him, you will,' Master Yoda had suggested, and Kit intended on doing just that.

"When we arrive at the apartment, I shall address the Senator myself. Let me do the talking. This is a Council decision."

And a bad one at that, thought Kit. Since when did the Jedi Council interfere with private citizen's lives? What had this Dormé girl done to him anyway? Windu had gone to great lengths and manage a lot of political procrastination to convince the Chancellor to authorize an arrest warrant for the poor woman, so it must've been something significant. All he knew was that Kenobi wasn't pressing charges, and it should've been left at that. This was ridiculous.

After the door remained unanswered, the Council member had convinced security to allow them in. Kit wasn't an investigative specialist, but it looked to him as if the apartment was unoccupied and had been vacated in rapid fashion.

"The Senator and her assistant have apparently left Coruscant," security informed them, proving Kit's theory, although that wasn't the reason for his broad smile.

"Damn," he'd heard Windu murmur.

That was.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The specs had been read, the coordinates set, and hyperdrive initiated. They were on their way.

Obi-Wan planned on using the two-day journey to the Mid-Rim planet of Lin-Hyt to relax, meditate, and organize his plans for the future; plans which were still not set. There were things he was confident about, however, and those included his feelings for a particular senator.

As Obi-Wan walked away from the bridge, leaving the navigation monitoring to his Padawan, he reached inside his utility belt, only to make sure the golden token was still there. It was, as was the uncertainty accompanying it.

Padmé had tried her best to persuade him it would work; that they would be happy together; that their time apart would only make their time together that much sweeter. He wanted to believe her; she had been quite persuasive. But Obi-Wan couldn't help worry that over time - a long, lonely time, she would begin to regret her decision and wish she had married someone else. Someone who would be there for her. Someone she didn't have to wonder if he were coming home alive or dead, or coming back home at all.

It was a difficult decision, and not one he would allow to be rushed. She had to be completely sure, and it was his responsibility to make sure she was.

Consulting the Force in situations such as this offered no real source of guidance, although that was not his intention for calling for the Force. Meditations were for typically calming his agitation, and helped him focus his thoughts. Only then would he be able to make a rational decision.

Never before had Obi-Wan had calluses on his knees that were quite this thick.

He sunk down upon them once again in the Main Hold of the T-16 cruiser they had been assigned for this mission, listening for the familiar whispers of reassurance, reaching out to touch upon its tranquil waves. He was actually near the precipice of enlightenment when an irritating sound disrupted his concentration.

If he weren't in a durasteel box traveling across the galaxy at lightspeed, he could've sworn he'd heard women's voices. And the closer he got to the weapons lockers down the corridor, the louder they got.

"Impossible," Obi-Wan uttered under his breath. It couldn't be! He wouldn't believe it unless he saw it for himself. A swipe of his hand delivering a command through the Force, opening the storage compartment and revealing what he'd been hoping he'd dreamed, as two bodies came tumbling out of the cramped space onto the grate flooring at his feet.

"Padmé?" He had to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him as well as his ears, though she seemed a bit preoccupied at the moment and hadn't even noticed him.

"Are you kidding me? What was it exactly?" the argument continued even after the two women lay sprawled across the floor.

"Nothing harmful, I swear," Dormé promised as she helped the other woman to her feet. "It was just a strong sedative, so I could get you onto the ship."

"You lied to me!" Padmé's voice was more shrill than Obi-Wan could ever remember it being. He considered stepping between the two of them, but figured Dormé probably deserved everything Padmé could dish out.

"You told me Obi-Wan wanted to meet me at the port! And the next thing I know, you've stuck something into my…my…derriere!"

"It was the most convenient delivery point at the time," Dormé meekly explained, causing her employer to glare at her slack-jawed.

"I don't want to know the details." Padmé uttered in disbelief.

Obi-Wan didn't blame her, but he had some questions of his own.

"What are you doing on this ship?"

"It's a long story…" Dormé began, although he chose to cut her off quickly. In the month he had spent in Padmé's apartment, he had gotten to know the young assistant quite well. It was never a good idea to allow her to talk for very long.

"Just make sure it's a true one," he warned, motioning for them to sit on the padded benches lining the walls back in the Main Hold.

"Yes sir," she respectfully replied as they all sat down. "It's just that I know how little time the two of you have been able to spend together lately, and I wanted to surprise you, that's all."

Padmé sat silently waiting, apparently stupefied as Obi-Wan scrubbed his face wearily.

"This wasn't a good idea."

"Why not? Anakin said there wasn't any danger."

"You spoke with my Padawan about the mission?" Obi-Wan interrupted, his irritation rising, though with his student this time.

"Not exactly. He came to say goodbye and only mentioned you were leaving! I was worried and he told me there was no reason to be."

It wasn't as bad as he'd thought, but still, there was no reason for Anakin to be speaking with his girlfriend about such matters!

"Listen," he began calmly, addressing Dormé. " When it comes to assignments such as this, the outcome is never guaranteed! The Lin and Hyt clans are volatile adversaries, fighting over the two most valuable resources available to them. There is a long history of delicate Jedi negotiations being required in order to prevent any violent conflicts. So, you see, my dear, my Padawan wasn't entirely correct."

"Oh," Dormé muttered, her eyes downcast.

Obi-Wan sympathetically gazed at Padmé who seemed to have recovered from the shock of her recovery, and was now definitely flushed with indignation.

"If you'll excuse us," he spoke to Dormé without looking at her directly, doing his best to ease Padmé's irritability. "I'd like to speak to the Senator. Anakin's in the cockpit."

Once they were alone, Obi-Wan rose to kneel in front of the angry young woman, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "I'm pleased to see you."

She did smile then, some of the color leaving her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan. I never meant for this to happen, I don't wish to inconvenience you in any way. If you'd prefer, you can just drop us off at the nearest space port. I'm sure we can..."

"Stop, sh," he hushed her, a finger placed lightly upon her lips. "No harm done, and no I'm not dumping you off at the next planet. However, once we get to Lyn-Hyt, you have to keep her on board."

She did smile then, a sight which never failed to warm his heart. "Even if I have to tie her up and gag her."

Rather tempting, thought Obi-Wan for more than a few seconds. "But that's a couple of days from now. What shall we do to occupy ourselves until then?"

Her smile turned sultry, the previous anger completely vanishing. "I may have a few ideas."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

He knew she was embarrassed, although he had assured her that he was thankful for her presence, that it wasn't her fault. However, along with his reassurances came the repeated warning of staying on board. He would never forgive himself or Dormé if anything bad happened to her.

The T-16 cruiser actually had no private quarters. There wasn't room for any. It did have a convertible bed of sorts, comprised of the firm cushioned benches which bordered the Main Hold. It was on it that he and Padmé relaxed while the ship hurtled through space.

Her head was planted on the hollow of his shoulder, his one arm supporting her back, while he toyed with her hand that lay atop his chest. It occurred to Obi-Wan as they passed the time in relative silence that her presence did more to soothe his frettings than an hour's worth of meditation. She was a calming salve to his nerves, and the answer should be obvious. He should ask her. Without delay. However, he simply could not rid himself of the nagging feeling he would be a disappointment to her, or she would tire from his long absences.

"I know a little about Lin-Hyt," she broke the silence abruptly. "My father purchased a bowl carved from Lin wood to give to my mother for their anniversary years ago."

"That must've cost him."

"I think it was meant to be a salad bowl, but you're right. It was so expensive, she put it on display in the kitchen behind glass and I don't recall our family ever using it for anything. Even during holiday gatherings. It was a lovely piece, though. I remember staring at it sometimes, losing myself in the twisting designs in the wood."

"Then, you can understand why the Gaw-Lin are ready to fight to protect their harvest."

"I do," Padmé agreed, "but what I don't understand is how the Cro-Hyt can be so selfish as to dam up the water the others need! Don't they know whatever damage they do to the Gaw-Lin affects them as well?"

"Some of the most devastating battles in the galaxy have occurred over petty differences and selfish motives." Obi-Wan pointed out as he caressed the back of her hand and wrist. "Naboo was no exception. A little over 500 Gungans lost their lives that day."

Padmé lifted herself up onto her elbow to gaze down at him with concern. They had never discussed this subject before, and she wasn't sure she should even bring it up. "As well as Master Jinn. Devastating indeed."

He gazed up at her smiling. Beautiful, thoughtful Padmé. He hadn't mentioned the numerous palace soldiers which had also been killed during the Battle of Naboo. She had to have known some of them personally, and yet her worry was for him. A question was in her eyes, and he answered it without forcing her to voice it.

"Losing Qui-Gon was difficult, but I was prepared for the possibility. I know that sounds strange, but a Jedi's life is rather precarious. We put ourselves directly in the path of danger on nearly every mission we attend. Eventually, fate will catch up to us."

She needed to understand that, and he wasn't sure how many ways or times he could explain it.

However, instead of appearing indecisive or worried, she smiled down at him. "Then we should take advantage of the time we have together, don't you agree?"

'Live in the moment, Padawan,' was an old adage of his Master's, and one Obi-Wan hadn't really tried to understand or follow until now. For once, Qui-Gon's words meant more than just random philosophy for his Padawan to study and meditate upon. The words were applicable in this instance, and he decided to put them into practice.

With one hand he reached up and loosened her hair, releasing a clasp which allowed her long, dark curls to tumble freely down upon his chest. Obi-Wan sighed audibly at the soothing sight and feel of it as it touched upon his skin. In return, she ran her fingers through his beard, her gentle caress pausing to trace his lower lip. Desire coursed through his veins, plummeting to pool at his depths when she leaned down and kissed him. Softly at first, and then with slightly more pressure, her mouth moving deliciously over his, until her tongue deliberately snaked out, swiping over his teeth, sparking a fire in his groin and causing a rumble of vocalized frustration to erupt from his core. Obi-Wan twisted and turned her, pinning Padmé onto her back. He gazed down upon her, noticing the dilated pupils which caused her dark eyes to appear almost black, a predatory, teasing smile lifting her mouth.

"You do enjoy torturing me, don't you?"

"It was just a kiss," she replied, feigning innocence.

Obi-Wan took a moment to clamp down his natural male reaction. He'd made a promise to her and he was going to keep it. But her orneriness deserved whatever punishment he could offer.

"I'll show you a kiss," he playfully threatened, dipping low to capture her mouth, the pressure immediate and demanding. She opened readily to his assault, arching her back to meet his embrace, and not only greeted his tongue's invasion, but joined him in the erotic dance with perfect timing. For a moment, Obi-Wan forgot who was supposed to be in control in this situation, and he pulled away to gather his wits, applying his lips to the soft skin of her throat and suckle an earlobe. Her body was taut and coiled in his hands, and he slowed his advances, running his fingers languorously down her arm before returning to her mouth, and applying kisses that were far less ambitious. This was a game he couldn't afford to lose, and Obi-Wan realized he was just barely ahead, which meant he'd better quit.

He released her, a smug smile of victory on his face, although hers didn't quite reveal an expression he'd expected or else she was an excellent actress. Obi-Wan decided on the latter when he noticed the increased rate of pulsations along the vein in her throat, the rapid intake of her breath, and the further extension of her pupils. He'd done his job quite well.

His brow shot up expectantly, awaiting her response.

"I've had better," she claimed before his fingers found their mark. If he couldn't make her succumb through his kiss, then he would do it by tickling her.

"Stop, stop!" she screamed at him between squeals of laughter. "You're going to make me pee myself!"

Obi-Wan ceased the sweet torture and settled back down beside her, brushed a curl away from her face and then drew her close. Further words were not exchanged and none were needed. Contentment radiated between them as they began to doze. For now, the worries and doubts of their future were beyond his concern. Live in the moment, he'd been told. And that's exactly what he did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Two days of touching with limited restraint and kissing far past the melting point, was enough to drive any woman to the edge of insanity. Sexual frustration anyone? She wanted to make love to Obi-Wan so desperately, and yet cared enough for him to respect his wishes. He wanted to wait. For what, she wasn't sure. Her undying devotion? He had it! Her promise of monogamy? It was his for the asking! She ached with wanting him, and the damned meditation he had designed for her wasn't helping at all!

Padmé imagined that when they finally did join together, the result would be rather climatic. No pun intended. It would be like a supernova, reducing their surroundings to a pile of rubble and ash. Nothing left but her charred skull revealing a most satisfied grin.

In the meanwhile, she would continue to make use of the gift Dormé had presented her with on her last naming day. Now, if only she could find an available outlet on board this miniature ship!

And even though the cruiser was basically a closet traveling through space, Dormé had somehow managed to stay out of her way. She suspected her assistant had spent most of her time with Anakin in the cockpit. A wise choice. Padmé wasn't finished with their discussion from the other day about the continued bad choices she'd been making lately.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan's voice reached her from underneath the cramped 'fresher door, but his concern did little to improve her mood. Apparently, the outlets on board this ship weren't compatible with the charger for the intimate massage device Dormé had given her.

"I'm fine!" her voice carried more loudly than intended.

"We'll be entering orbit soon," he explained kindly, "and there's a few things I need to go over with you."

Like why this ship is equipped with 4/40 when her charger is 2/20? "I'll be right out," she told him instead.

Within a few minutes she joined Obi-Wan and the Menace herself in the Main Hold, deliberately choosing to refuse to make eye contact with the other woman.

"There are two lockers down the corridor containing a variety of blaster rifles. Long range as well as sporting pistols. If you stay on board as I've asked you to, there should be no use for them. However, it's always best to be prepared. Beneath the corridor flooring is a storage space I believe both of you will fit into if you need to hide for some reason. And here;"

Obi-Wan placed a comlink onto Padmé's palm.

"I'm not sure if the mountainous terrain will offer the most reliable transmissions, but it's better than nothing."

"Master?" Anakin heralded from down the corridor. "We're entering the atmosphere."

"You girls better get strapped in. I'll meet with you after we land."

Before he left, Obi-Wan placed a chaste and sweet kiss to her cheek, and then moved quickly to the front of the ship. Padmé hurried to the wall and seated herself on one of the benches, reaching around to connect the safety harness as Obi-Wan had suggested. She didn't bother checking to see if Dormé had done the same.

Their ascent was rather jarring, but the landing was smooth. When all motion had ceased, Padmé unstrapped herself and rose to find Obi-Wan.

"There are essentially two types of terrain here," he explained near the loading ramp. "Mountains and woods. The plan is to meet with the Gaw-Lin clan first, which will take Anakin and I south. If you need us, use the comlink. Please, do not venture off the ship. If, for some reason, a conflict does arise, I don't want you to be caught in the middle of it."

"Be careful, Obi-Wan," Padmé pleaded, reluctant to release his hand as he stepped away and exited the ship. She didn't take her eyes off him until the ramp closed with a shuddering clang.

Only then did she spin round and level a glare aimed at her assistant. She'd had enough. Not only had Dormé interfered with the health of a Jedi, she had interfered with Obi-Wan's mission as well! What if her presence here was too distracting for him, and he got himself hurt? Or worse?

"Mi'Lady," the young woman began in a sorrowful tone, but Padmé would have nothing of it.

"Don't say a word!" she spat out, stepping toward the cockpit and away from the corridor, slapping the comlink down onto the console. "When we return to Coruscant, I'm turning you in myself! You are a danger to the Jedi, to me, and to yourself!"

"But I…"

Large aqua monster tears were threatening to spill over, but they did little to lessen Padmé's anger.

"Don't start it! You were sorry before and look what you've done! You promised not to interfere again! And look what you've done!"

She was yelling, and she knew it, but couldn't seem to stop herself. Be it the frustration of unrequited lust, or Dormé's complete lack of sensibility, Padmé had reached her limits!

"If anything happens to Obi-Wan, I swear…" While she was considering an appropriate punishment, an unfamiliar noise caught her attention. At first it sounded like a tap on the outside of the ship. But then the tapping became a whir, and sparks began to fly through edge of the ship's loading ramp.

If she didn't know any better, she would think somebody was trying to get in!

Dormé's common sense finally decided to reveal itself and put the young woman into action. She hurriedly shoved Padmé down the corridor, with the obvious intention on reaching the storage space beneath the floor Obi-Wan spoke of. But there wasn't time.

With a loud bang, the ramp door collapsed, falling backward onto the ground, shooting up a cloud of dust and piercing the interior of the ship with sunlight. Following that was the sound of barking orders in a language neither of them understood.

Padmé did understand their current situation however, and felt that any being who had the nerve or stupidity to vandalize a vessel delivering Jedi was someone who could not be trusted. They were in trouble. Deep trouble!

"Hide!" Dormé suggested quietly.

It occurred to Padmé as she frantically searched the ship that this was the best idea her bodyguard had come up with in a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The furniture in the conference room was expertly designed and created. The Gaw-Lin craftsmanship was widely recognized as being among the best. Which was a good thing in this particular case. Bodies were being tossed across furniture, chairs and smaller tables being used as convenient weapons, and Obi-Wan even witnessed one of the Gaw prying his facial horn out of a tabletop. A fairly comical sight to behold were it not for one thing: Those who were dong the fighting were all from the Gaw. Apparently, there was dissension not only between the two clans, but within as well. That would complicate negotiations.

In one instance, Anakin had been forced to step aside to avoid being struck by an intricately carved side table thrown his direction, and it was then Obi-Wan decided he'd waited long enough. He ignited his lightsaber and the room immediately went quiet.

He and his Padawan apparently weren't invisible after all.

Obi-Wan needed to make a statement and thought it would be more effective without the use of a translator, although he wasn't certain of the words. After a moment of silence, he decided to try his best.

"Hon tol tre, una bol jed nun fie."

Nervous tension radiated from his Padawan as both Jedi awaited the Chieftan's response.

He had actually suggested everyone take a seat and stop wasting valuable Jedi time. Or at least that's what he had wanted to say. However, when the crowd erupted into bellowing laughter, he was no longer sure.

"Did you tell a joke?" Anakin asked out the side of his mouth.

"That was not my intention," Obi-Wan replied in the same manner.

Regardless of his failed attempt at communication, the clan leaders eventually seated themselves once more around the scarred, rough-hewn wooden table.

Through the use of the interpreter this time, Obi-Wan discovered the Cro Chieftan had demanded an increase in profit percentages recently and had threatened to close the aquaduct he controlled from the highest mountain overlooking the Lin village. Talks had come to a stalemate, the water supply from the mountain dwindled, and the Jedi were contacted.

However, the Cro leader's refusal to make an appearance at today's negotiations had infuriated the Gaw, and all prior developments had been lost. It seemed they were going to have to start all over.

About an hour or so into their discussion, Obi-Wan was beginning to wonder if an agreement between the two clans would be possible. As a whole, the Linhytians were a proud race, who settled for nothing but perfection. Their appearance and architecture, as well as their creations were heavily detailed and expertly crafted. However, that pride was now standing in the way of a resolution, and was starting to reek of stubbornness.

Obi-Wan had hoped an agreement would be reached quickly. He was eager to return to the ship and take Padmé back home. As a Jedi Master, he should've known better than to make any such plans. For years, he'd tried to teach his Padawan to be prepared for anything, to rely on nothing but the Force. Feelings and emotions were unreliable. No matter what planet you were on.

It started out as a tickle along the back of his neck, which slowly radiated up across his scalp. He recognized the pattern as well as its message, and glanced quickly to the left toward his apprentice.

"I feel it too, Master," Anakin whispered.

Their reaction had almost been too slow. Within a fraction of a second following the warning, the Cro messenger who had been sent literally exploded. The young Cro-Hyt male had been seated on the opposite side of Obi-Wan near the leader of the Gaw. But once the shrapnel and dust had cleared, the messenger, the Gaw Chief, and several of his advisors who had been standing behind him and seated next to him were dead; their body parts scattered about the room.

Obi-Wan and Anakin crawled out from beneath the thick, wooden table, to view the damage, their ears ringing from the blast. The table which had lost a leg was leaning precariously, and there was a hole in the ceiling of the conference room. The many who had not been killed were injured by projectiles, some severely.

Instead of the survivors mourning their loss, however, or helping those who were injured, the survivors of the group once again began shrieking in defiance, their furious voices issuing out death threats upon the murderous Cro.

And if matters couldn't get any worse, loud booming noises were then heard from outside. One after another. Obi-Wan detected explosive devices being detonated in several places all over the village; explosions which had been planned and executed with perfect precision.

A sinking feeling struck Obi-Wan in the gut. He and his Padawan had just been thrust into the midst of civil war with Padmé and Dormé right along with them.

* * *

A ridiculous thought occurred to Padmé as she ran through the forest, but she just had to ask.

"Couldn't you have packed something more appropriate for me to wear?"

"I wasn't expecting to be in our current situation," her personal aid defended "But let's stop for a second."

Padmé slid to halt following Dormé's suggestion and leaned against a tree, her heart pounding.

"I packed for travel, not combat," the young woman informed her, while placing her hands atop her head to try and catch her breath.

"If we are going into combat, not only are we overdressed, but I'm afraid we're under-armed." Padmé pointed out. They had barely escaped the ship with their lives, diving out the open ramp while the invaders were scavenging the weapons supply. They had been forced to flee without weapons or rations. "And I left the comlink on the dash," she added with dismay.

"We're not completely helpless," Dormé announced suddenly, bending to pull out a slender vibroblade hidden inside her boot. It was better than nothing. "If you'll allow me."

Without any explanation, the young woman began to trim away the excess material which had hampered Padmé's trek through the forest. She wore leggings tucked into her magg boots, with a vest and long-sleeve tunic beneath it. However, the back of the vest flared out and down, reaching nearly to her knees, and it was this portion of her garment Dormé removed.

"That should help you move faster." Dormé placed the blade back into its hidden sheath. "But you'll never keep up with me."

"Excuse me? Who was winning just now?"

"Somebody's gotta watch your back."

The words had barely left her mouth before a blast of plasma struck the tree next to Padmé's head, propelling Dormé forward, to knock the Senator to the ground and drag her out of harm's way.

"They're persistent," the young woman noted wryly.

"What do they want?"

"Hostages, I imagine," Dormé reasoned as she peered ahead through the trees. "Stay low and head for that brush," she commanded before shoving Padmé into action.

They moved rapidly and ducked inside a thick overgrowth of palms, dropping to the ground to hide.

When they were on board, they didn't actually see their pursuers, but now they had a clear view of the approaching natives. There were three of them, each reaching the lowest branches of the trees with ease. They were at least three meters tall, with horns of varying lengths protruding from their face and skulls. They were heavily armed, having apparently confiscated all the weapons on board, but they were also heavily clothed; draped in layers of furs. All that weight had to slow them down, which gave she and Dormé the advantage.

The two women lay deadly still, preparing to take flight if the beings moved just a few steps closer when the relative silence of the forest was split with a low, rumbling growl. The sound stopped the three natives in their tracks, who then appeared to breathe the air, before fleeing back in the direction they came from.

"Where are they going? They're the ones with all the blasters!" Dormé wondered aloud as she rose.

Padmé stood with her, although her concerns were slightly different. "What I want to know is…what was that sound?"

Within the shadows of the canopy and listening to the echoes of the woodland creatures, it was difficult to discern where the noise was actually coming from. The source, however, soon made its appearance as a large, furry spotted creature stepped into the clearing, its shoulder muscles rippling with each step, bearing its rows of sharp teeth as it took in its surroundings, apparently trying to locate its prey through its advanced sense of smell.

The women stood frozen to the spot, secretly hoping the tusk-cat would choose to pursue the natives.

They weren't so lucky.

With a snap of its head, and a glare of its four eyes, it bounded toward them with incredible speed. There was no time to think.

"Up! Up! " Dormé yelled as the pushed Padmé toward the nearest trunk.

"I'm going!" Padmé yelled down, grabbing the closest branches and propelling herself higher and higher as quickly as she could, reaching back to assist Dormé as well.

They made it about three-quarters up before the tusk-cat began circling the base, growling in defiance.

"Do you think it can climb?" Padmé just had to ask. When would she ever learn?

"Go, go!" Dormé urged her to climb once more until they reached the point where they could climb no more, and still the cat came, its lengthy claws sinking into the trunk with each powerful advance toward them.

"What now?" From her point of view, there were few options. The closest tree was at least four meters away. If they tried to leap to it, there was a good chance they would miss and fall to their deaths.

Apparently, Dormé had another idea.

"What do you do when confronted with a bully?" the young woman asked.

"Face him head on," the Senator replied without delay.

In a burst of action, Dormé reached out and snapped a long thin branch nearby. She then began to whittle the end of it with her blade, creating a makeshift weapon. Her urgency, however, was not nearly enough, and Padmé could not resist adding some of her own motivation.

"It's getting closer! Hurry Dormé! Hurry!"

By the time the spear was sharpened enough, the creature had reached her boot, and clamped into the heel with its powerful jaws. Padmé kicked at its head with the other foot, but to little avail. The tusk-cat was hungry and was not about to lose a meal.

When the sharpened end of the branch impaled one of its eyes, however, it quickly changed its mind. The cat howled in pain, released its tasty appetizer and slid down the trunk of the tree before disappearing into the woods.

It was some time before either woman moved a muscle or said a word. Night would soon be falling, and they had planned to spend it in the tree.

As others had learned, plans often fail, and soon, a priority more important than their own safety revived Padmé 's courage.

In the distance was a flash of light, followed shortly by a loud boom. After that, it seemed as if half the planet was on fire. She knew within her heart that something bad had happened which had affected many, but all Padmé could think about was one soul.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

The explosions had ceased for the time-being, but the antagonizing had only begun. After a bit of coaxing, Obi-Wan and Anakin led the group outside, convincing them to assist those who needed the most help. The village had erupted into chaos. With the sun dipping below the tree line, and the power for the community apparently disrupted, the only sources of light were the multiple fires blazing out of control.

They did all they could, pulling bodies from the wreckage while dragging others to safety. There were countless injuries and numerous deaths, and still their efforts were hampered with the disgruntled murmurings of those wanting to attack the village of Cro-Hyt immediately.

"Let us do our job!" he spoke in Basic, his irritation making him forget they wouldn't understand him.

"Tol jed una jed vun dyy!" he shouted, although Obi-Wan doubted any of the clan leaders were listening. There was blood on their hands and revenge burning in their eyes. He recognized the look, and had seen a similar one many times during countless missions before.

A murmuring had begun and was steadily increasing in volume. It had started low, from an unknown source, and quickly spread. It spoke of death for the clans and an abject failure for himself and Anakin.

"Dun vol dun! Dun vol dun!" the crowd was chanting louder and louder, accompanied by even those who were unable to stand.

"What are they saying, Master?" Anakin had joined him in the street, as the Gaw-Lin survivors began circling them.

"Death for a death, Padawan," Obi-Wan answered glumly. He didn't like the look of this, but he was not about to use physical force to have his own way.

"What do we do now?"

Obi-Wan had an idea, although he had never attempted it. Not on such a large scale. It wasn't a favorite option of his to say the least, but at least it would keep his lightsaber out of his hand.

Closing his eyes, the Jedi Master summoned the Force, which was so readily available in an environment such as this. He drew it to himself,and then turned his focus upon the crowd.

"Uni tol jed una jed vun dyy," he announced, his words punctuated with as much Force application as he could muster. "Uni lun sol tet. Tet!" he pointed to the ground for emphasis.

There were at least two hundred Gaw facing him when he had tried the persuasion, and every one of them looked back at him dazedly, pale smoke drifting about their heads and torsos, the crackling of endless flames surrounding them.

"Uni lun sol tet," one of them repeated. Obi-Wan wasn't certain if the one who had spoken was a Clan leader or not, but it would have to do. He was just happy his idea had worked.

"We have to get to the Cro-Hyt village before they change their mind," Obi-Wan commanded as he and Anakin departed, maneuvering their way through heavy debris, which littered the city streets. "There's still a chance to abort this war if we can meet with the Cro Chieftan."

"I think that was a record, Master," Anakin pointed out as they entered the heavily wooded area that lay just behind the city, the snowy mountaintop peeking over the trees beyond. "You just mind whammied half a planet."

"Influenced, Padawan. I only influenced them to use their better judgment," Obi-Wan corrected as they hurried their steps. Already, he could hear the death chant beginning once again behind them.

* * *

They entered the core of the firestorm at a dead run, both brandishing hastily-created weapons, out of breath, frantically gazing through the thick smoke.

"What the sith! Who did this?"

Padmé could hardly believe her eyes. She had never witnessed so much destruction in one place before.

Grasping her hand, Dormé led the way through the dark streets glowing beneath the flickering flames devouring buildings comprised of mostly wood, their structures fueling a fire which would not die for hours to come. Beings quite similar to the ones who had pursued through into the woods were lying in the street, some scorched to their deaths, some crying out in agony.

Empathy struck Padmé hard, and she fought back tears as a young Linhytian, her face and arm blackened, wandered out of a burning building screaming for what she assumed was her mother.

"Dor," she gasped. "We have to help them."

"I know," her assistant agreed, squeezing her hand tightly. "I'll start searching for medical supplies."

"I'll try to find a place to treat them."

Neither woman understood the language, but they understood grief and suffering, and there was plenty of it.

What Padmé didn't understand was the anger she came face to face with when she turned onto a wide street which led up to a substantial building, whose roof was ablaze. There was a large group of males gathered there shouting a chant and thrusting their fists high into the air.

They were not helping, they were only instigating. It infuriated her.

"What are you doing!" she shouted at the group, who ignored her. That is, until she grabbed one by the sleeve of his leather jacket and pulled him around to face her. "Your clansmen are dying! You must help them!"

From the side of her eye, Padmé noticed the group had begun to split, and one of the large beings was approaching her. A vibroblade soon appeared before her face, the horned mouth issuing out what could only be a threat to her safety.

"Dey mon uga nor tul," the being sneered down at her, his breath reeking of spice.

It had been a few years since she'd practiced, but imagined the years of training would come back to her. Besides, the stick was in her hand, and she wanted this huge thug out of her face.

With a flourish of movement, Padmé brought her spear up and over, capturing the being by the wrist, and forcing his arm down to the ground, where she held it with all her might.

"Help them," she growled into his surprised face, just as another clan member stomped on the end of her stick, immediately disposing her of her only weapon.

Her hand-to-hand combat skills were not quite as deadly as her stickfighting was, but she would do what she had to in order to get through these thick skulls of theirs!

When Padmé lifted her hands in preparation of fending off an attack, the small group of Linhytians spewed out what had to be laughter. She had no choice but to show them how serious she was, and promptly stepped forward to do just that, when a smaller Linhytian stepped forward. This one revealed a smile and in broken Basic, greeted her.

"I am Tun-Gaw of Gaw-Lin, translator of Gaw Chieftan, who is dead."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Padmé spoke kindly but with great relief. Perhaps she could negotiate with these stubborn beings after all! "What happened here?"

"Cro-Hyt Chieftan killed many. All were in Council House, Jedi too. Jedi came to help."

"The Jedi!" Padmé stopped him, placing a hopeful hand upon his leather-bound arm. "Where are they?"

"Two Jedi go to Hyt to speak with murderous Cro leader."

Padmé sighed heavily with relief, grasping her stomach which was rolling with anxiety. At least the men were safe. Now, she and Dormé could concentrate their efforts.

"Tell your Clan I'm here to help the injured. We need to set up an area to treat the wounded. Do you have any medical supplies? Bandages? Bacta? "

"I will ask," the kind translator assured her before turning his attention back to the grumbling clansmen behind him.

The discussion was brief, but when the helpful Lynhytian turned back to Padmé, his large, brown eyes were hopeful. "My brethren inform me because you are small like bug but brave like tuk, they will help."

"Good," Padmé grinned at him. "I didn't want to have to go get another stick."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Master! This is impossible!"

The words ' _nothing is impossible with the Force'_ came to the forefront of Obi-Wan's mind, but this was not the time for masterly quotes. It was a time for concentration and careful maneuvering.

The steps carved into the mountain leading to the Cro-Hyt village were treacherously steep and wide, which made sense if you were several meters tall as the natives were. Well, he and his Padawan were not, which made their advance rigorous and painstakingly slow.

"The entire village will have burned down by the time we get there!" the young man observed with irritation. Obi-Wan turned back to regard his student, intent on guiding him through a short mantra about controlling his emotions, when he was struck with an idea.

Just a ways over was a wooden tunnel, which was bolted to the rockface. It was the aquaduct the Cro Clan had shut down. It would be dry, and would be much easier to climb than these arduous rock steps.

Taking the initiative, Obi-Wan slung a grappling hook upward against the mountain, catching upon a crag in the stone a few meters up. He then began a pendulum walk across the face, tightly grasping onto the thin line of durasteel.

He made it to the wooden passage without any problem, where he awaited his Padawan. Once they had both reached the aquaduct, Obi-Wan used his lightsaber to carve a hole in the tube just large enough for them to drop into.

They slid several feet down until grabbing onto a joint, the moonlight shining through the opening they had created, allowing just enough illumination to find their way. Slowly, but surely, a thin glowlight pressed between his teeth, they made their way up the mountain, finding purchase on each joint edge.

When the duct leveled out, Anakin created an exit above their heads, and the two Jedi stood up and leaped out and into the village of Cro-Hyt.

"Una jed! Una jed!" A young clan member shouted as she raced across the snow-packed ground.

The majority of the village was hidden from view of the wooded valley, and Obi-Wan was surprised to see how substantial it had become over the years. Regardless of their complaints, the Cro Clan seemed to be flourishing. New buildings of stone and durasteel were planted in the frozen ground, and powered glowlights lit up the paved streets.

The youngling had apparently drawn the attention of the clan and a ripple of conversation passed through the growing crowd until a highly-decorated clansmen strode up amongst them.

"Dun nol tul, Che Cro. Uni Jedi Kenobi," Obi-Wan recited the proper greeting slowly, slightly bothered that the more he spoke, the more jagged teeth this particular Crohytian revealed.

"Obi-Wan," the broad leader grinned as he spoke before slapping the Jedi's shoulder roughly with a meaty hand. "You do not remember me?"

He hated to admit it, but he was having trouble tracing his memory that far back. It had been many years since he had visited here with his Master.

"Teaching a brethren has robbed your mind I see," the Chieftan indicated Anakin, who stood slightly behind his Master. "I was born Bon-Cro, son of Non-Cro, great Chief of Cro-Hyt."

"Of course!" Obi-Wan beamed, extending his hand, which was accepted graciously, despite his blunder. "I heard about your father's accident. May he rest with the Great Chiefs."

"Non-Cro was strong. No avalanche could kill my father."

Obi-Wan eyed the new clan leader with interest. It appeared there was much more to this mission than he had predicted. "Perhaps we should move this conversation to a more private location," he suggested.

"Of course," the Chieftan agreed with another toothy, horned grin. "Besides, you Jedi are without fur. You will freeze soon."

The private residence of their host was a comfortable one of stone and wood, leathers, and furs, with a roaring fire built in a pit which took up most of the common area. It was here he and Anakin were led, told to sit upon cushions of animal hides and furs, and handed goblets of sour wine by female servants.

"As you were saying," Obi-Wan prompted, while he did his best to appear as if he enjoyed the drink, when in fact, it wasn't to his liking at all.

"There are those who wish to unite the clans. One rule under Gaw. To force us out of the mountains and into the woods where the Cro do not belong." the Cro leader explained.

"Do you know who these insurgents are?" Anakin asked.

"I think they may be the same who sabotaged the water system a few years ago."

"Were they Cro or Gaw?" his Padawan pursued his line of questioning.

"Both," was the answer which surprised Obi-Wan. "Mix of both Clans; unruly, spoiled youth who demand their own way."

Obi-Wan pondered the situation carefully while the attending servant refilled their goblets, although his didn't need any. The information provided was vital, but it did not answer the question which had driven them up the mountain.

"Do you think they are the ones who set off the explosions in the Gaw village earlier today?"

"I believe, yes." The Chieftan announced with confidence. "We heard the noise, saw the fire. It was not Cro who attacked Gaw."

Obi-Wan believed his old friend, although that did nothing to provide a solution to their problem. The fact still remained the Gaw Chieftan was dead, as were many of the Gaw clansmen. According to Lin-Hyt law, someone had to pay for the crime.

Obi-Wan was considering asking for some assistance in convincing the Gaw of this theory when a thin Crohytian burst into the room, immediately bowing and kneeling to the floor, his furs littered with leaves and other debris obviously from the woods below the mountain.

"Ton dun una dey." The Cro Chief demanded the messenger to speak quickly.

"Dey jed!" the younger clansman spoke excitedly. "Dey una jed sen fon! Tan sen fon una don! Una don tet!"

With a nod from his leader, the messenger backed his way out of the common room. Obi-Wan looked at the Chief expectantly. He had picked up on just a few words. Something about an attack or something got stolen, which concerned the Jedi.

He had a bad feeling about this.

"It seems as if our friends have attacked your ship," the Cro Chief translated. "They have stolen everything inside."

Apprehension swept down Obi-Wan's spine and settled in his stomach. Not a good combination with the bitter, sour wine he'd consumed.

A quick glance back to his Padawan confirmed the young man shared his worry.

"The girls!" Anakin spouted, his eyes wide with alarm.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The report had been correct. Their cruiser had been thoroughly gone through. Access had been gained tvia the loading ramp; its heavy durasteel door lying flat upon the ground.

Obi-Wan immediately checked the storage compartments concealed beneath the flooring, while Anakin searched the lockers and 'fresher. The women were nowhere to be found, and the comlink he had given Padmé was abandoned in the cockpit.

"Do you think the rebels took them?" Anakin asked, worry creasing his brow.

Obi-Wan paced the hold, his hands steepled in front of his face in concentration. He was studying the eddies of the Force as if they would provide the answers, when he knew they wouldn't. Desperation was threatening his serenity, although he refused to allow his Padawan to see that. Instead, he calmly continued to breathe and settled on posing a question.

"I'm not certain, but we need to consider all the possibilities. For example: If either one of them heard an explosion in the distance, what do you think they would do?"

The younger Jedi's answer came readily. "More than likely, the opposite of what they should."

"I agree, Padawan. If they are free, we'll find them in Gaw-Lin."

* * *

Without any power and minimal supplies, aiding those injured during the explosions was aggravating to say the least. Her inability to speak the language was also slowing Dormé down. She had been forced to try a variety of hand signals and head movements to communicate with the two female Gaw who were assisting her.

According to the translator, the med facility was heavily damaged and most of the medicines were ruined. A few clan members had carried in some containers which had been salvaged. After inspecting them, Dormé was disappointed to find no trace of Bacta. Instead, she asked the translator to gather help and find a plant she had seen in the woods. On Naboo, it was called tlickweed, although here, she was sure it had another name. She described it as best she could, telling him the plant had medicinal purposes and could be used to ward off infection.

Sensing the urgency, the translator had left immediately, and she was glad. However, it left her with no ability to communicate, and her frustration level was increasing by the second.

"Hold the light a little closer," she reminded her assistant as she plunged the needle back into the thick hide of the clansman. After removing a large fragment of beam from his leg, she had determined the wound needed to be stitched up.

If only the Senator had stayed to help! They had decided together, however, that one of them needed to be in search of anyone needing medical attention. With injuries ranging from slight burns to fractures, or worse, there simply wasn't enough treatment supplies to help every injury, and not enough space either. Every pallet she'd requested was occupied. Surely, the flow of patients would slow down soon.

* * *

Loaded with strips of cloth to be used as makeshift bandages, as well as a skin of clean water, Padmé cautiously stepped through the debris-littered streets of Gaw-Lin, searching for victims of the attack. She had treated several already who would not require more attention, as well as comforted those who were beyond help. A few times, she had even stopped to hold a grieving parent or young one who had lost a family member.

She was doing all she could, although it wasn't enough. And soon, she would be out of water. If only the power would be restored! Then, the reservoir would open and what little water the Gaw had left could be given to those who so desperately needed it!

The situation was more grievous than any she had encountered during her volunteer work, but she was determined, and stepped over to a body lying on the opposite side of the street. After ensuring there was no pulse, and that the clanswoman was indeed deceased, Padmé motioned for someone to come take her to the reclaiming area. It was located in one of the few intact buildings in town, where the family members could claim their loved ones and begin the mourning rituals the Gaw observed.

Exhausted, Padmé took inventory of her supplies and stepped back from the smoldering building, her gaze cast upward into the sky. Looking at the stars distracted her for a few seconds, her thoughts immediately turning to Obi-Wan. It wasn't that long ago they were on board and he was in her arms, although, with all that had happened, it seemed like days had passed. No matter how long the time, the memory of him holding and caressing her would be forever etched into her memory. Especially the way he said her name. She loved the way he spoke it in normal situations, but when he was aroused, it was particularly devastating.

She played it over in her mind, smiling despite the destruction surrounding her, until she realized the voice was too distinct to be just a memory.

Elation replaced her exhaustion at the sight of Obi-Wan standing on the opposite end of the fiery avenue. He was here! Everything would be better now.

* * *

Once they had reached the village, Obi-Wan questioned a few natives who informed him there were two female off-worlders helping with the injured. One had set up a treatment center, while the other was searching for survivors.

Anakin had followed one of the clansmen to the treatment center, while Obi-Wan began his search of the village streets.

It wasn't until he reached the center of town that he saw her, but before he could take another step, the gentle eddies he had studied earlier were suddenly transforming themselves into a maelstrom.

He called out her name in warning, but it was too late. Obi-Wan was helpless to watch as the world surrounding her exploded.

Time seemed to become stagnant as Obi-Wan cast out his hands, manipulating the Force and wrapping it about the debris cloud which threatened to envelop her. He managed to divert the most deadliest projectiles, shielding her as best he could from the firestorm that followed, but was quickly overwhelmed by the number of building fragments which targeted her.

When the dust cleared, he was already at her feet. He couldn't remember how he got there, but the how mattered very little.

"Padmé?"

His call went unanswered and Obi-Wan quickly assessed her for injuries. He could find no external damage, no puncture marks, or any bleeding, although a bruise was beginning to quickly develop along her temple. She had a head injury. Possibly severe.

"Force," The word was not a curse but a plea as Obi-Wan lifted Padmé up into his arms to carry her to safety.

 _"Please, please don't take her from me!"_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Stars, this was going to hurt, but there was no better way. Dormé tried to reassure the patient he would feel relief after the bone was set, but the translator had left earlier had and not returned. Instead, she was forced to once again use hand motions, showing Anakin how to hold him while she pushed against the dislocated shoulder-blade.

Actually, the clansman moved very little and merely grunted in discomfort when the bone popped back into place. Using a strip of cloth, Dormé fashioned a makeshift sling and placed the Gaw's arm into it, motioning for him to keep it stable. Afterward, she literally pushed him out the door, just as a familiar person came marching in.

"Mi'Lady!" Dormé squeaked as Obi-Wan brushed past her, carrying the Senator in his arms. "What happened?"

"Another detonation. Padawan, you need to sweep the intact buildings and search for any switches, propellants, or mines. You know what to do."

"Yes, Master," the young man immediately hurried out to do his Obi-Wan's bidding, leaving Dormé face to face with the older Jedi. She expected anger, which would be directed toward her, and justifiably so. What she discovered, however, was desperation.

"Dormé, please. Do whatever you can."

"I will," she promised Obi-Wan. "Put her here."

She indicated the only empty pallet in the long, dark room, ignoring the groaning calls from the injured further back. There were other survivors who were now attending the wounded. She had done all she could to help them. Her attention now was focused on the young woman lying at her feet.

Dormé brought a glowlight closer and pried open the Senator's eyelids. She swept the light across the dark irises. First one, and then the other, voicing her findings aloud to the anxious Jedi.

"Pupillary restriction in both. No dilation. No malposition, which is good."

"Is there a hematoma?" Obi-Wan asked, from his kneeling position on the Senator's opposite side.

Dormé took one more look with the glowlight, frowning with uncertainty. "Hard to say. If I had the right equipment, I could perform a scan, which would reveal signs of swelling or compression."

The Jedi uttered something which sounded like Huttese; a language Dormé didn't know very well, except for maybe few key terms. She didn't recognize the one Obi-Wan had just used, though she suspected it was something rather profane.

She stared down at her injured friend, feeling helpless and frustrated.

"What about the other Clan? The Cro? Do you think they have a scanner available?" The sudden thought brought her some hope, which was dashed as soon as Obi-Wan explained how truly dire their situation was.

"The power is out not only in this village, but on the mountain as well."

That didn't make any sense! "If the Cro are responsible for this attack, why would they cut their own power?"

"They didn't, because they're not the ones responsible," Obi-Wan explained as he brushed away a stray strand of hair from the Senator's forehead. "The Cro Chief believes there is a rebel faction responsible. They want to unite the clans under one rule."

"By destroying everything?"

"Malcontentment often breeds uprisings." Obi-Wan calmly told her, his gaze yet to leave Padmé's face.

"And you believed him?"

Without changing his focus, the Jedi Master sat up taller, taking Padmé's hand in his and placing it onto his lap. "I sensed no deceit in his words."

"So, what happens now?"

Before Obi-Wan had a chance to answer, Anakin rushed into the treatment area. "How is she?"

"It's too early to tell," was the honest answer Dormé gave.

"Master, I discovered two threats near the council house and one undisturbed mine in a garden by a private home. There could be more, but without the proper tools, we won't know. We could return to the ship and see if the sensors can pick up anything."

There was no reply for some time, and when Obi-Wan did speak, his voice was soft but resolute. "We will return to the ship, but we're taking Padmé with us. I have to get her to safety."

"She really shouldn't be…" The end of her advice was aborted by a gaze so pained it tore the word from her tongue.

With a tender touch, the Jedi Master lifted the unconscious woman in his arms and stepped out the door. Anakin and Dormé followed.

"Once we're on board," he told his Padawan over his shoulder. "Contact the Jedi Temple and request an additional Jedi team be sent here, as well as a civilian physician with a mobile OCR scanner."

"Yes, Master."

As the four of them stepped through the smoldering embers of what was once a thriving and heavily populated village, Dormé was filled with a mixture of emotions. She felt compassion for those who had suffered, and anger towards those who had been the cause. But most of all, she was carrying a great deal of concern over her friend's condition. Padmé had to pull through! Obi-Wan would never forgive her if she didn't, and she wouldn't blame him.

Dormé trusted the Jedi Master's judgment, even though it appeared as if he were abandoning the Gaw when they needed the most help. Perhaps, once more Jedi arrive and the Senator recovered, he and Anakin would return to resolve the situation.

Until then, she understood Obi-Wan's rationale for getting Padmé out of harm's way, although moving a possible head trauma patient was not the recommended course of action. He did seem to be taking great care with her, however; carrying her so gently, it almost appeared as if she were floating.

That is, until they turned the corner to head down the main street, and he stopped suddenly, lowering the Senator to the ground before gingerly leaning her body against a building.

It took a moment for Dormé to discover what the problem was, but eventually through the smoke and darkness, she was able to detect movement up ahead. What at first appeared to be a small gathering of Linhytians, grew in number as the crowd moved further into the light. There were at least 100 clansmen gathered in the street, and it didn't take her long to figure out they weren't all from the same clan. This must be the rebels Obi-Wan had mentioned, although she didn't think they numbered so many.

"Dormé?"

"Yes, Master Kenobi?"

"Watch over Padmé. No matter what happens. Keep her safe."

"I will protect her with my life."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

There was a moment of tension as Obi-Wan and Anakin stepped forward, weapons in hand, though not igniting them.

"I would like to speak with the leader of your group," Obi-Wan declared after noticing the Gaw who had translated for him earlier was part of the insurgents.

His words were passed onto a rather young, but robust-appearing Linhytian who was donning fur. After words were exchanged, an explanation was given, though it was not what he'd hoped for.

"The Esteemed Lon-Cro will only speak using the native, sacred tongue of Lin-Hyt."

"Damn," Obi-Wan muttered to himself. "Dun nol tul, uni jed Kenobi," he began, only to be interrupted by the translator.

"He knows who you are."

Obi-Wan sent his irritability into the Force and focused upon the words he sought. He was standing at the crossroads of what would determine peace or war, safety or bloodshed, and his limited knowledge of their language would be responsible.

"Dey het sun phi, tol una Cro, tol una Gaw. Ter arn set phi."

He had tried his best to promote peace; of not resorting to violence, of coming together as Cro and Gaw and talk things out instead of destroying one another. At least, that what he hoped he'd said.

"Non phi, una jed!" the leader shouted back, bringing forth a DH-17 blaster, very much like the ones they had stored on board their vessel. "Non phi! Kru tet bin Gaw, Kru tet bin Cro! Ard orn eta sun, tuu phi!"

Obi-Wan quickly deciphered the words in his mind and spoke them to his Padawan. "He says no peace until all the old Gaw and the old Cro are dead. Only then, will there be peace."

Obi-Wan had no choice but to step out a limb and warn them if they did not cease their acts of terrorism, he would be forced to take them into custody as a representative of the Galactic Republic.

To this, the leader revealed a toothy grin and repeated his threat, causing a ripple of laughter to move through the whole rebellious lot.

"It didn't work, did it?" Anakin quietly asked him from the right.

"Be ready, Padawan."

His warning immediately followed a gathering of the Force about the two Jedi. Obi-Wan was always amazed at how strongly Anakin wielded it. Together, they stepped forth, glowing lightsabers brought to the forefront in preparation. Once again, there was a moment of coiled tension, wound as tightly as a spring, anxiously awaiting release.

The first shot came from the left near the back of the crowd, and then it seemed as if the entire group opened fire at once. Anakin deflected the shots toward his right, while Obi-Wan focused on the opposite side of the crowd, many of whom were now scrambling for cover as their own blaster fire was repelled back at them.

He would do the best he could to not use his weapon to take a life. However, he would not allow any harm to come to women behind him. Their safety far outweighed that of these young rebels who had defied their elders and murdered so many already.

Two, three, five of them had fallen, suffering from deflected plasma burns to their limbs or shoulders, when a loud voice boomed above the cacophony of battle.

"Tuu het!"

Obi-Wan paused to turn slightly, although not lowering his defense, and catch sight of the Cro Chieftan approaching from behind. Surrounding the Cro clan leader were at least fifty able-bodied warriors, brandishing pistols, vibrospears, and plasma shields. They had come to fight. Obi-Wan would do all he could to prevent that from happening.

An exchange of words began with the leaders of the two groups. Obi-Wan tried to keep up with the conversation, though accusations were being tossed back and forth at a rapid pace. Anakin stepped up to his side and once again Obi-Wan tried to explain what was going on.

"Apparently, the leader of the rebellion is Bon-Cro's brother. He's grown tired of being second best, under the Cro chieftan, as well as Gaw manufacturing."

More angry words were exchanged.

"Bon-Cro is actually trying to maintain peace, and came to help us but…" Obi-Wan paused when the rebel leader produced a jagged rock from the pockets of his fur cloak. "Wait here."

Obi-Wan boldly stepped out and approached the rebels, his weapon lowered and shut down, although the group still pointed their rifles directly at his head.

"May I see?" he asked Lon-Cro, his words translated.

Somewhat reluctantly, the rebel leader placed the item onto Obi-Wan's outstretched palm. It was as he thought, and should change the course of this uprising.

He directed his findings to the young translator. "Are you aware of what you have here?"

"It is a substance with explosive properties. We have used it to create a most effective weapon," the young Gaw answered.

Obi-Wain visibly winced. Padmé lay unconscious due to the misuse of their discovery. "Agrocite," he explained, "is a rare ore used in the manufacturing of fuel; the most powerful fuel source in the galaxy."

The translator passed along Obi-Wan's words, and followed up with a question from the leader. "The Esteemed One would like to know if it is valuable."

"That all depends on the source," Obi-Wan explained. "Where did you get this?"

"That is none of jed Kenobi's business," the Linhytian announced following his instructions.

Obi-Wan sighed. "I do not wish to take it from you. But, if you have discovered an abundance of agrocite in those mountains, you will have enough funds to purchase anything you can possibly imagine. And I can tell you how to do it."

When the rebel leader heard this, his large eyes widened, and his weapon dropped. Obi-Wan rejoiced inside. "However," he continued, "Unless you lay down your arms and stop this attack, I will leave this planet and not share my knowledge, and you can continue to just use this to blow things up,' he said, indicating the ore in his hand.

"Tell us." Lon-Cro spoke directly to him although with a heavy accent.

"Stop this attack," Obi-Wan countered.

The leader of the rebellion thought hard and long, his tusked mouth twitching before he finally spoke. "Don tuu fet, Gaw."

Having agreed to a cease fire, Obi-Wan took advantage of this opportunity. "You must help rebuild this village," he confirmed, adding just a bit of Force persuasion to his suggestion.

The words were repeated to his satisfaction and Obi-Wan motioned for the Cro Chieftan to approach.

The Linhytians were a proud and stubborn race, and even with an agreement on the table, there was much healing still to be done. But it was a good start.

And now, he could focus on healing the one person who mattered the most in his life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

There were voices in the room and an ache in her head. To say she was groggy was an understatement, and it took a lot of effort to even open her eyes. When she did, her surroundings were not familiar, but one of the voices was.

Turning her head aggravated her headache, but Padmé had to see who Obi-Wan was talking to. She had to find out what happened. Was the war over?

"Hey you," she attempted to say to draw his attention, but her voice was hardly above a whisper. It didn't matter. Apparently, Jedi have excellent hearing, because he quickly excused himself and was at her side, a bright smile on his face, a gentle caress in her hair.

"Hello there." Obi-Wan bent low and placed a sweet kiss upon her lips, which were too dry to pucker correctly.

"May I have a drink?"

"Sure."

Within reach was a pottery set with the coldest, freshest water she had ever tasted.

"How long have I been out?" she asked, her voice now returning to its normal tone and volume. The pieces were beginning to fit now. She had seen Obi-Wan standing in the street, and then everything shattered.

"A couple of days," Obi-Wan answered, taking a seat on the bed of furs as well as taking her hand.

"Hello, Senator Amidala," another familiar voice spoke from the opposite side, forcing Padmé to turn her head yet again, though this time with less discomfort. Standing beside her was an elder dressed in the rich blues of Naboo physicians.

"Dr. Janus!" Padmé exclaimed, trying her best to scoot backward to sit up, although it took assistance from Obi-Wan to succeed in doing so. "Obi-Wan, Dr. Janus was my childhood physician."

"I know," Obi-Wan replied. "We contacted Queen Jamillia to request a physician be sent over since Naboo is closer to Lin-Hyt than Coruscant. You gave us quite a fright, Padmé."

"There was a small subdural hematoma in the left frontotemporal lobe, which we evacuated," the doctor explained.

"We? Who is, we?"

"Hello, Mi'Lady," Dormé stepped up to the bedside, and Padmé reached out to take the young woman's hand in hers. There were tears in her assistant's eyes. Whether they were from guilt or happiness, she couldn't be sure. Another uncertainty was how she felt about Dormé operating on her. The woman was highly trained and quite capable, but having her trample around inside her skull was another matter!

"Miss Dormé was excellent help," Dr. Janus pointed out, obviously seeing the horror Padmé had tried to hide. "I'm not sure I could've performed the procedure without her assistance."

It took a moment for his words to register in Padmé's mind. "Thank you," she said, although there were many words which needed to be exchanged between the two of them. Now that everything had calmed down, they could take the time to evaluate Dormé's recent actions.

But right now, all she wanted to do was be alone with Obi-Wan.

The two women had spent enough time together, apparently Dormé could read that very specific desire on her face.

"Come on, doc. Let's go find something to eat," the young woman suggested before ushering the older man out of the room.

She waited until they had left and glanced about the space before settling her gaze upon Obi-Wan. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Bon-Cro, the clan leader offered his private residence for your recuperation."

"That was kind of him."

"Linhytians may be stubborn," Obi-Wan explained as he studied her hand, "but they have big hearts and are exceptionally loyal."

Although Padmé had her suspicions, she had to ask. "So, is it over? Did everything get settled?"

Obi-Wan told her the story of how the clans united once the prospect of wealth had entered into the negotiations. No longer would artistic creations and lumber be their main sources of income. Lin-Hyt now had something far more valuable.

"A representative of the Galactic Mining Commission is coming to help them establish a mining colony, as well as a Republic Recovery team, to aid the rebels in rebuilding what they destroyed."

"Good." The news was better than she had hoped for actually, and yet there was something in Obi-Wan's gray-green eyes that hinted at an unspoken worry. "What is it?" Her insightful probe brought a grin to his face.

"There for a while," he answered slowly, his hand lazily drifting up and down her exposed arm, and it wasn't until that second Padmé discovered she was naked beneath the layers of fur. She didn't blush, however. Both her private physician and Dormé had seen all secrets before, and she had spent 30 days in Obi-Wan's arms, though not entirely in the nude. However, his caress was becoming quite the distraction and was doing delightful things to her body.

"I wasn't certain you were going to pull through," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion, causing Padmé to reach up and sooth his tension with her own caress, the texture of his beard a welcome sensation to her fingertips.

"But now, perhaps you understand my hesitance," he added, the words sinking like a stone into her stomach and causing her hand to abruptly drop back to the bed.

Not this again!

"What Anakin and I encountered here is a common occurrence across the galaxy. To you and I, life is precious. To others, it seems to matter very little. And just because I'm a Jedi, doesn't mean I cannot be killed. I'm not sure this is the right time and place for this, but I simply cannot put it off any longer…"

Words of conviction raced through Padmé's mind, but nothing she hadn't said before. They had spent many hours in the past year deliberating the pros and cons of a committed relationship, and just when she thought it was all behind them….

She had a bad feeling about this.

Which was why she didn't expect the gold band he produced from his utility pouch. The one he so gently placed upon her finger.

"Padmé, I'm still not absolutely convinced you will be happy married to a Jedi, but I promise, I will do everything I can to make it so. My life may not be guaranteed, but I don't want to continue living it without you. Will you be my wife?"

For a second or two, she considered the possibility that death had claimed her after all. That she had passed on during that explosion and had entered the Afterlife. But it couldn't be. There was that nagging ache in her head, and her foot was tingly and numb from lying in the same position for so long.

This had to be real.

She stared at the simple band on her finger. It was rather plain with a single blue stone set in the center, but she had never seen anything more lovely.

Well, other than his face. Which Padmé readily took into both her hands, uttering her declaration between an assault of kisses.

"Yes! Yes! Of course, yes!"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen/Epilogue**

As most girls do, when Padmé was young, she and her sister would pretend they were getting married to only the most handsome and bravest of men. They would set up elaborate ceremonies with dolls and a variety of other toys. The setting was always large, the decorations elaborate as all weddings should be. She had held onto that notion most of her life; believing a wedding ceremony should be a grand celebration with many attendants.

Time and situations have a tendency to change one's opinions, however, and in her mind, she and Obi-Wan were already married. She had committed her life to him long before he had found the courage to make the request.

The small ceremony on top of the peak of Lin-Hyt was her idea. Frankly, she didn't want to wait a moment longer! Obi-Wan had actually argued with her, once again filled with doubts that she would regret not having a big ceremony on Naboo.

When was he ever going to learn to trust her? She had asked him. She knew her heart, and her heart belonged to him. It didn't matter where they stated their vows or who witnessed their life commitment.

A small, private gathering was perfect in this case. And one following her near-brush with death, was even more fitting.

"Tol dun, ina set gen far," she recited the ancient Linhytian words of unity, smiling proudly when Obi-Wan did the same. Her heart nearly burst with joy as Bon-Cro announced their lifelong union and Obi-Wan took her in his arms; sealing their fate with his kiss.

"I love you," he purred beneath the white fur wrap covering her ears as they held each other on the mountaintop while all those who had witnessed the ceremony applauded.

It was by far the happiest moment in her life, were it not for one thing.

In the distance, off to the side of the crowd, Dormé was now speaking with a pair of Jedi who had just so happen to arrive with the Republic Recovery team. Master Windu did not look extraordinarily pleased, but then he never did. Knight Fisto, on the other hand was still clapping his large, webbed fingers with glee, a broad, infectious smile on his face.

"What do you think they're talking about?" she asked Obi-Wan between acceptances of gifts from the Linhytians who had joined them.

"I'm not sure," Obi-Wan answered back, drawing her close and placing a kiss to her temple. "We'll just have to wait and see.

It wasn't long before Dormé made her way over to them. She hugged both of them tightly, congratulating them warmly. For once, Padmé couldn't read her expression, though she seemed extremely calm. Almost resigned.

"Well?" Padmé prompted. She knew Mace Windu wouldn't have come all this way for nothing.

The young woman smiled and turned to Obi-Wan. "First off, my apologies, Master Kenobi. I now realize the error of my ways and am ready to pay the price for them. But if you please, I would like to speak to the Senator alone."

"Very well. " Obi-Wan squeezed her once before walking toward the two Jedi.

"What did he say?" Padmé urged. She had always believed her patience was more than most, but if Dormé didn't explain what was going on soon, she'd scream!

"I've been offered two options." Her aid began. "I can go to prison for up to ten years for obtaining an illegal substance, performing an act of terrorism upon a representative of the Jedi, kidnapping and endangering the life of a Galactic Senator…."

The young woman paused while reciting her list of crimes, giving Padmé the feeling the other option may be worse.

"Or be banned from entering the Galactic Core for the remainder of my natural life. "

Her mouth had dropped open, which was not a necessarily attractive trait, causing Padmé to clamp her lips together. She had her suspicions, but had to ask. "Which did you choose?"

"It has been my honor serving you, Mi'Lady," Dormé bravely exclaimed, her demeanor still quite calm, "but I think it's time I returned home."

The idea of not having Dormé in her life came as a shock, and Padmé realized suddenly, that despite the fact the girl was an absolute nuisance, she would be missed.

"What will you do?"

Dormé pondered the question for a moment. "Maybe go back to the University. Dr. Janus thinks I'd make a good physician's assistant. It's a possibility."

"That's wonderful!" Padmé exclaimed. "Dormé, the PA. I like the sound of that."

"Unless…"

That one word took away most of Padmé's pleasure in the idea.

"Unless, the Queen requires my assistance."

A warning began sounding in the Senator's head. "The Queen has an entourage of handmaidens as well as bodyguards. I don't think she'll need your…"

"I'm not talking about that kind of assistance," Dormé interrupted, a fiendish twinkle appearing in her eye. "I'm pretty sure the Queen's not attached to anyone yet…"

"Dormé! Don't you dare!"

/End

* * *

A/N: Thank you readers/reviewers! Now, I'm going to concentrate on "Walking on Water." See you there!


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